guy even a real person? No one looked that good, and smelled that good, and was kind to kids. There was a flaw.
He’s special ops.
Yeah, that was a pretty big flaw. Not that I could even see this guy as a man, in the romantic sense. Like I had time for that crap right now, or even the energy. But I wasn’t stupid, either, and something had flipped in me when I’d seen him with Colt.
Guys with puppies. Guys with kids. Either one was guaranteed to snag my attention, and this guy had both.
“I’ll be right back,” he told me as I stood in the entryway. “Feel free to make yourself at home, since…you know, you own it!” he called as he ran up the stairs.
My steps were tentative as I came farther into the cabin. Everything was just as we rented it; there was no personalization or anything that suggested he’d be here more than a few days, let alone seven months. No dirty dishes in the sink, no books left on end tables, no jackets thrown haphazardly on the backs of chairs.
Havoc came out of the living room, wagging her tail slowly, and I dropped down to see her.
“Hey, girl. Were you asleep? I’m so sorry to wake you up.” I rubbed behind her ears, and she leaned into my touch.
A minute later he was in front of me, a black tee pulled over his chest. Yeah, that didn’t lessen his sex appeal, unfortunately.
“So you do like my Havoc.”
“I never said I didn’t like her. I happen to think she’s pretty great. Her handler, on the other hand…” I shrugged, glancing around the cabin. “You sure you’re staying seven months? Looks like you’re not even here for the weekend.”
Just another sign that this guy wasn’t sticking around.
He grinned, flashing white, even teeth and getting tiny crinkles around his eyes. “What, because I like my cabin neat? Clean? Uncomplicated?”
“Or sterile and impersonal, whatever you’d like to call it,” I teased.
He scoffed. “So, what can I do for you, Ella?” He leaned back against the bar that divided the kitchen from the living room.
“I was hoping that you might show me Ryan’s letter.” The mood in the room changed instantly.
“Oh.” He quickly schooled his expression, but I’d seen the initial surprise. “Yeah, of course. Just wait right here.”
He sprinted up the steps again. I heard a drawer opening and shutting, and within a few heartbeats, Beckett was back.
“Here you go.” He handed over an envelope that had probably once been white but was now smudged with dirt and softened by repeated handling. My fingers trembled as I flipped it over, seeing Beckett’s name scrawled across the front in Ryan’s handwriting.
My thumb brushed over the ink as my throat constricted, a familiar burn tickling my nose. Tears threatened for the first time since his funeral, and I quickly shoved the emotions as far away as possible. I kept them locked up tight, just like the boxes of his things that gathered dust in his old room. I’d eventually clean it out, sort through the things I knew Colt would want, but not yet.
That was on my after-we-get-through-cancer list, which at present was about fourteen miles long.
“You can take it with you,” Beckett offered, his gruff voice softened to a level that drew my eyes to his. “In case you want some privacy to read it.”
There was a deep sorrow in his gaze, a raw, unfathomable pain that sucked the air from my lungs. I knew that feeling; I was that feeling, and seeing it reflected in someone else somehow made my own feel validated and a little less lonely. There had been tears at Ryan’s funeral. Larry, Ada…me, the kids, the few local girls he’d seen off and on for years, even the couple of guys who had come to represent his unit. But none of them had looked like I felt—like I’d been abandoned by the only person who really knew me…not until this moment with someone I considered a stranger.
A stranger I was connected to through the death of the person we’d both loved.
Given the state of the envelope, and how many times he’d obviously read the letter, I knew what he was offering, and what it cost him. That simple gesture meant more to me than every let-me-know-what-you-need from every well-meaning person who learned about Maisie, even more than the honest offers from Ada and Larry, whom I considered family.